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Agnea stood on the balcony of her New Delsta inn room, and not even the dazzling lights of the city could obscure the stars dotting the night sky. The sight of the stars should've comforted her now that the group was free of that persistent fog covering Lostseed, but still she found she couldn't rest. She clutched her hand over her chest, feeling her own heartbeat, and fought back the urge to vomit.
She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself to ward away the sudden chill. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw those vacant stares again, the ruins of a city frozen in time, where that monstrous man had made his home. But Throné was free now, free of that cruel poisoned collar. It should've been cause for celebration. Yet the group had left Lostseed in silence, the scent of blood lingering over them.
Carefully she laid her hands on the railing of the balcony, and stared into the shadows below. Temenos had said he would write to members of the Order of the Sacred Flame in both Flamechurch and Canalbrine to inform them of Lostseed, but would it be enough? Agnea let out a heavy sigh; even with that man gone, what light awaited in such a hollow, forgotten place?
Her mother wouldn't have thought it hopeless, she knew. But as she was now, what could she do?
"Agnea," came a familiar voice behind her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. "I see you couldn't sleep either."
As Throné came beside Agnea, her eyes fell upon Throné's bare throat, and even in this faint moonlight she could see just the slightest hint of discoloration around the pale flesh. She bit her lip; it wasn't so surprising, as Throné had spent more than half her life wearing that dark collar. There was a chance those bruise-like markings would never fade, and the thought of that made Agnea's heart ache. "No, I'm not really tired," she answered finally. She tried to smile, but that ill feeling still lingered in the pit of her stomach.
Throné touched the dagger at her thigh, and was silent a moment longer before speaking again. "You're still bothered about Lostseed, aren't you?"
Agnea tore her gaze from Throné's neck and cast it toward the shadows below the balcony. If she listened closely, she could even hear the sounds of people moving and speaking, living in a city that never slept. Yet just a little ways beyond the valley was a city the complete antithesis of New Delsta. The chill fog over Lostseed had felt like countless needles prickling her skin, and she had felt as if she would never be warm again. She clasped her hands together, hoping to hide how she trembled from Throné. "I never imagined such a place existed," she said, forcing her practiced accent to remain even. "No hope or joy, or even despair. Just… nothingness." She shook her head, but that did little to settle the dark thoughts within. "And everything that man said…"
"I knew I would have to dirty my hands for this freedom," Throné muttered, touching the base of her throat, where the collar's gem used to lay, "but I never expected the cost would be so high."
"Throné…" was all Agnea could say in reply. During the battle with Claude, he had summoned the illusion of a young man with pale hair and a collar much like Throné's, and Agnea would never forget that expression of anguish and grief on Throné's face as she plunged her dagger into the illusion's chest. He had smelt slightly of cigarette smoke, and Throné had called him Pirro. Yet she had not faltered, nor against those illusions of "Mother" and "Father." If what that man had said was true, then they had all been Throné's kin, and she had spilled the same blood that ran in her own veins.
Again Agnea thought of those people in Lostseed, and shut her eyes tightly. A man made immortal for unknown reasons, a sadistic man with no sense of empathy, who could travel wherever he wished and yet had made his home in a crumbling, forgotten castle, as if stylizing himself a king of nothing. He had sired countless children and tossed them into the darkness and forced them to fight for their very lives. So many lives ruined and cut short, all because he wanted a glorious death. But now he could no longer hurt others and Throné was free.
Yet the scent of blood still lingered. Agnea pressed her fingers to her forehead, and her eyes ached.
Throné folded her arms over the railing of the balcony and let out a deep sigh. "It truly is over, isn't it? The Blacksnakes are finished, and yet…"
With a shaking hand Agnea reached for Throné's shoulder but hesitated, and then let her hand fall to her side. "I…" she tried to say, and she couldn't stop her own shoulders from quaking. Was it truly over? What about the people still left in Lostseed? What about the scars Throné still carried, or the blood that stained her hands? But what more could they do? "I… I can't forget…!" she cried as tears began to roll down her cheeks. "How can a place be so hopeless…? I know the world isn't always kind, but I just don't understand…!"
"You're right, we can't forget," Throné said softly as she turned to face Agnea. "And sometimes not forgetting is all that we can do."
"But that's…" Agnea rubbed her eyes with her arm, but still the tears wouldn't stop. "Is there really nothing more we can do…?"
Throné was still a moment longer, and then, much to Agnea's surprise, put her arms around Agnea. She drew Agnea close, her embrace protective, and Agnea's arms, as if moving of her own accord, came around Throné's back, her fingers tightly clutching the dark fabric of Throné's blouse. She buried her face in Throné's neck, her tears staining Throné's skin as Throné caressed her back gently, and the warmth of that embrace was much like the comfort of moonlight on a dark night.
Once, Agnea might have been embarrassed by showing such a pathetic display in front of one as strong and elegant as Throné, but Throné was kinder than that, she knew. The hands that had been trained to steal and kill now held her so tenderly. During their travels together, Agnea had seen the warmth in Throné's careful smiles, more common by the day, and the joy in her eyes when she watched Agnea dance or when they shared a warm meal together. For as lowly as Throné thought of herself, she still looked toward the dawn, and Agnea wanted to make that longing hope a reality.
But reality was never quite so kind, was it? None of them could have imagined Throné's journey for freedom taking them into a place so utterly devoid of the light. Agnea's arms tightened around Throné; but it wasn't simply Claude. The depths of darkness and cruelty she and her companions had witnessed on these journeys stretched further than that.
"If I had known what Lostseed would be like, I might not have let you come," Throné whispered against Agnea's hair. "But I'm thankful you were with me."
Agnea jerked her head up, and through her eyes she saw Throné smiling, faint as it was, the first she had smiled since leaving Lostseed. "R-Really?" Agnea stammered.
"It may be selfish of me to say, seeing how much you're hurting now," Throné continued, laying her hand on Agnea's hair. "And I know I'm not very good at this kind of thing, but…"
"No, it isn't selfish," Agnea said softly. "After all, we're friends, aren't we? And friends are supposed to support each other." Yet her heart began to race as she spoke those words, and for a moment, or a fraction of a moment, she thought of how beautiful Throné was, and how she wanted to put a smile on those lovely lips of hers. Even now, even after all they had seen in Lostseed…
"Friends, huh?" Throné let out a low chuckle, but the corners of her eyes grew moist. "Every day I'm thankful I met you. I can't say I don't have regrets, but even knowing what I do now, I think… I think I would still make the same choices."
Agnea raised her hand to Throné's face, her fingertips brushing against strands of dark hair. Throné's smile softened, and Agnea's fingers fell toward Throné's slender throat, now free of that horrid collar. Her hand settled at the base of Throné's throat, and carefully she drew her fingers along the discolored skin, where the collar had lain for so long. She felt Throné's breath hitch, and a quickening pulse against her fingertips. "You're free now, Throné," Agnea whispered, pressing her lips to the side of Throné's neck. "And no one can take that away from you."
Throné slid her fingers beneath Agnea's chin, and her dark eyes glistened in the moonlight. "I was afraid of taking away your smile," she said in a quiet voice. "I worried what good would come of someone like me traveling with a cheerful dancer like you. But still you always tried to comfort me, and you've never thought me hopeless…"
"I'm glad I met you, Throné, I really am," Agnea said, and this time her smile felt more natural, and her whole body grew warm beneath Throné's gaze. "Haven't I told you before? You're strong and elegant, and you truly do have a kind heart."
"That you can still say that - you've no idea how much that means to me." Throné brushed her thumb over Agnea's lips. "I can't promise that we can do anything more for the people of Lostseed. I can't promise I won't make you cry again. But I can at least promise you that we'll see a new dawn together." She bent her head and pressed her lips to Agnea's.
The kiss was brief, but held a promise of things to come, of desire and intimacy waiting to be realized. They were friends and more, and the warmth of Throné's lips lingered on Agnea's.
The two of them stood on the balcony a little while longer, staring up at the stars as Agnea held Throné's arm, a welcomed warmth in this chill night air. "What do you want to do now?" Agnea asked, breaking the gentle silence.
"I want to see you dance at the Grand Gala," Throné answered without hesitation.
Agnea's fingers tightened around Throné's arm; in Merry Hills, she would soon confront Dolcinaea and proclaim her mother's legacy. "Even if I can't reach everyone, a star is supposed to inspire hope. That's why I won't give up."
Throné chuckled softly. "Agnea Bristarni, the brightest star in all of Solistia. It has a nice ring to it."
Agnea's cheeks grew warm. "I couldn't have gotten this far without you and everyone else!"
"Then tomorrow, let's head to Montraine's Tavern and show everyone how far you've come." Throné pressed her hand to Agnea's cheek. "And if possible, I'd like to find that little friend of mine too…"
"Oh, you mean the cute puppy that started all this!" Agnea beamed. "You know, if not for her, we never would've met!"
Throné's eyes went wide for a moment, and a faint smile graced her lips. "Yes, I suppose you're right about that," she said, and Agnea cupped her face, taking in that beauty illuminated by the moonlight, and they shared another kiss beneath the stars.